Let me begin with an acknowledgment: I apologize—not for my identity or actions, but for my prolonged silence, for withdrawing into myself, and for not reaching out sooner. It has taken me some time to find the courage to express these sentiments, partly because I fear your response—and equally terrified that there may be none. The truth is, I miss you.
Even after you vanished from my life, I still think about you. I have a few things to share, and I hope you are willing to hear me out, wherever you may be.
I recognize that I haven’t always been the easiest friend to be around. My mood swings, emotional needs, and occasional melancholy could be overwhelming. I can admit that my presence sometimes dimmed the atmosphere, and I understand that must have been challenging for you.
This struggle stems from my battle with bipolar II disorder—a complex mental health condition that brings unpredictable highs and lows. On some days, I am spontaneous and full of life, while on others, I feel as if I am stuck in a dark abyss, paralyzed by despair. I’ve often canceled plans, unable to muster the energy to engage with the world.
I can only imagine how frustrating it must have been for you to witness this transformation. My absence during those dark moments wasn’t a choice; I needed support, yet it felt like you chose to step away when I needed you the most. The silence that followed your departure was deafening. My calls went unanswered, and my texts felt as though they disappeared into a void.
I share this not to elicit guilt but to foster understanding. Admitting to having a mental illness is a daunting experience, laden with shame and stigma. Many people fear losing their loved ones for simply being vulnerable. No one should endure such isolation, yet here I am.
They say there are three categories of friends: those who come into our lives for reasons, those who are there for a season, and those who remain for a lifetime. I think our friendship belonged to the first category. While it served a purpose in a specific time, the realization that it has ended is still painful. I miss you every single day.
Although we didn’t last, it’s likely you will encounter another friend facing mental health challenges—not necessarily bipolar disorder, but another condition. According to studies, nearly 42.5% of Americans will experience a mental health issue at some point. These individuals will need your compassion, your support, and your willingness to listen.
So, I urge you—be there for them. Support them. Remember, friendship isn’t always about smiles and laughter; it requires effort, understanding, and patience. They are fighting their battles and may just need a guiding light. You can be that person for someone else, even if you couldn’t be for me.
I believe in your capacity to be that friend. If not for me, then for the next individual who may be suffering.
In closing, if you’re exploring options for home insemination, you can find valuable information on artificial insemination kits and the emotional support that often accompanies the journey at Mount Sinai’s infertility resources. For those navigating body changes, Understanding Stretch Marks is an excellent resource.
Summary
This article reflects on the importance of friendship during difficult times, especially for those with mental health challenges. It emphasizes the need for compassion and support from friends, urging readers to be present for those who may be suffering. It also provides links to resources related to home insemination and mental health.